Choices
by Dagronir.themanofgondor
Summary: Elrond is promoted to the rank Commander. He has never had this many lives in his hands. He has never had to make choices like this. Set during the Siege of Barad-Dur. Featuring Elrond, Gil-Galad, Thranduil, Erestor, Glorfindel, and some OC's. Rating may go up for gore and violence.
1. Prologue

**Gorgoroth: Fourth Year of the Siege of Barad-Dûr**

Elrond placed his dusty boot firmly onto the rocky outcropping. "I advise we tighten our defences here and push forward on the southern flank. There, we at least have a foothold and geography on our side," he said, not taking his eyes off the torn landscape surrounding him and his commanding officer. "The dark lord will not be able to tolerate such pressure for much longer." The raven-haired warrior finally turned to face his leader.

Gil-galad's face was stern as he mentally weighed the ellon's words. He shifted his weight to overlook the ashen desert before him. "He is stronger than we think, Elrond," he mused more to himself. He was certain the elf beside him knew this point very well. "Still, I agree. If we cannot break him yet, we shall make him bend."

Elrond fought the smile that threatened to mar his stoic expression. "My heart is glad to have given a notion worthy of thought," Elrond said formally. Of course, whenever other ellyn were within earshot Elrond always took the more formal approach.

"Indeed," Gil-galad nodded to himself as if he had made a decision about something that had been worrying him for some time. "You have always been one of excellent foresight. Let us hope that your gift does not lead you astray." He cleared his throat. "I appoint you in command of a garrison to bring this plan to life."

Again, Elrond had to fight not to let the emotion show on his face. This time that expression was one of incredulity. His efforts must not have been sufficient for the lord chuckled. Elrond found himself quickly, gaining at least the better half of his composure. He had never been assigned to something like this. Yes, he had been given small missions or ambushes to plan but never a full assault… He quashed the rampant anxieties and bowed his head respectfully, "I am honoured, my lord. Thank you for giving me this chance…" He trailed off looking for words. It was not right to question the High King of the Noldor.

Gil-galad supressed his smile, more gracefully then Elrond had earlier and gave the ellon a comforting hand on the shoulder. The touch was close but not so as to break the formality of their conversation. "I have faith that you will accomplish this," he said, meeting the silver-grey eyes of his herald and friend. He kept the contact for a moment giving the ellon all the reassurance he possibly could through his gaze then the High King faced the warriors that were standing a ways back. They had been told to wait and keep watch, but now he called them over.

Elrond stood and for all his experience speaking in front of men and elves, he suddenly felt like a deer caught in the sights of an experienced archer, not able to run far enough or fast enough.

Gil-galad flourished towards his new commander. "Here now is your lord under me. Commander of the Fifth Regiment of the Noldorin Army, Elrond Eärendilion o Maedhros a Maglor: Fëanáró Nosseö."

Elrond felt his face flush red at the use of his full name. It was not often spoken out loud, not even by him.

The group of ellyn bowed low.

Gil-galad gave the elf a grin while his warriors' faces were lowered. "Make me proud, commander."

Elrond swallowed, still struggling to come to grips with everything that was happening. It was all too fast. All this had happened merely because he had mentioned a strategic ploy? It was too much… his mind snapped back in time to the face that Gil-galad had made after approving Elrond's idea about tightening defences. He must have been thinking about this for a while… Elrond's contemplations were derailed by the ellyn rising from their kneel.

Gil-galad made motion for his new commander to follow. "Come, let us make this formal," he said softly, leading the way down the ravine and back to the camp where they had been staying for the past month.

Elrond nodded, following at once. This was going to take some getting used to. _It was all too sudden_ , he continuously found himself thinking.


	2. An Old Friend

**Paragraphs in centred italics will be flashbacks for the remainder of the story.**

 **...**

Elrond trekked carefully down the long, winding dirt road back towards his quarters. He would be removed from them tomorrow and given his own private living space near the King's Tent. His thoughts cycloned out of control no matter how hard he tried to keep them in check. His fingers continuously flipped the small gold token that was now his. It simply stated his rank and status, nothing more, yet it was one of the most precious insignia's one could gain in the Noldorin army. The cool metal registered at the back of his mind. The sound of his boots crunching on the gravelly walkway was barely enough to keep Elrond's consciousness from drifting too far away. _Yes,_ he thought to himself, pulling his attention back to the here and now for the umpteenth time. _We are still in enemy territory._ The half-elf brusquely pocketed the trinket that his king had given him as a symbol of Elrond's new command.

Elrond shook his head forgetting once again his surroundings. Staying focused on anything else other than the recent developments was difficult. He couldn't believe it. His left hand found itself back into his belt pouch where the smooth, circular medallion sat. Elrond brushed his thumb against it. It certainly was a magnificent honour to be given this opportunity… It was certainly a daunting task… He pushed his thoughts away from that, deciding he had best try harder at distracting himself.

The silver eyed ellon raised his eyes from the path and took in the surrounding terrain. What little light that accompanied daytime in the Black Land was swiftly fading into darkness. The night would be falling soon. As it so often did, the late hours in this horrid region held evil terrors that would hunt once the last remnants of muted light had been stilled. Elrond did not wish to meet another one of those terrible creatures. He hurried his steps and pulled his cloak tighter around him.

The lowlands, filled with jagged volcanic boulders and harsh brush, were even now coming to life with creeping things. The ellon's hearing easily picked up the dastardly rustlings in the plains to his left. To his right was a steep, natural embankment, on top of which the bulk of the military camp was situated. He glanced up at the tattered remains of a wind-blasted flag still waving raggedly at the top of a tent near the edge of the embankment. The sight instantly depressed him. It reminded one of how long they had been here –

"Elrond!" A deep voice called from further up the path and startled Elrond out of the dark thoughts.

Elrond snapped to attention, his face lighting up and his shoulders relaxing when he noticed who the caller was. "Halvorn, it is good to see you," Elrond jogged up the path to meet with his companion. "How are you. We have not met in too long," he said trying not to sound overly dismayed and looking the ellon over.

Halvorn looked good indeed. It was obvious the elf had had a long journey to get here. The illustrious officer was dressed in ceremonial armour that needed to be polished soon. It had a silver sheen that played nicely with the elf's dark hair, which was shorn very short. The elf's dark eyes were filled with light and merriment.

"You look good," Elrond spoke. He smirked slightly, "Though I marvel at your choice of hairstyle. You look like a… well something awfully strange."

Halvorn laughed off the mild insult and turned to begin walking to the camp. He had not forgotten what time of day it was or what could be lurking in the brush nearby. "That is a long story actually."

Elrond chuckled, feeling suddenly very much better than he had been before. He followed Halvorn towards the camp. "I see. You will have to tell me later. I wonder, however, why you are here."

The ellon smiled over his shoulder. "You don't want to get rid of me yet, do you?" He teased.

Elrond shook his head "Of course not."

"Congratulations by the way." Halvorn dodged the former question. "I always knew that you would be great," Halvorn commended with absolute genuineness.

"I have been told that many times," Elrond sighed, completely missing the averted answer. "But thank you. It is a great honour even if it is somewhat daunting," he admitted.

Halvorn nodded. "I am sure. I would not be able to do it."

A chuckle escaped Elrond's lips and his mood was turned around again. "I never thought so either. You are overly impulsive, I think." This time it was his turn to tease the ellon.

"Maybe…" Halvorn ran a scarred had through his short hair. As if he had been reminded of the story he had wished to share, he piped up once again. "If you had been at the western front last week you would have been surprised with me and my impulsiveness."

"Oh really?" Elrond asked picking up his pace only slightly. The night was growing near and the gate to the camp was in sight now, up at the top of the hill.

"Aye, I was at the front defences there when a large stone was hurled from the dark tower. Took out a sizable chunk of ellyn and the earth shattered around it. A few chunks grazed my temple and shorn my hair." He tutted, thinking back to the moment. It had been an utterly terrifying experience, one of those moments where seconds became horror-filled hours. The memory of it would haunt him to the end of his days he was certain. "I am glad to be one of the ellyn who still have a head… It was only scratch but my precious locks were not saveable, so I opted to shave the rest to match that patch."

Elrond's eyebrows lifted at the story. It wasn't the most frightening tale he had heard told during this war, but the fact that it had happened to his friend made it all the more real. "I am glad that you still have your head as well, mellon." He left it at that. Nothing more needed to be said on the subject of death. There was so much of that going on daily now that it need not be said aloud.

"It will make me stand out for a while until it grows back," Halvorn said, trying and failing to arrange the dark locks.

Elrond snorted. "Well you have this one's approval. It could be worse."

Halvorn nodded again. They soon arrived at the stone gate. It was a squat, russet iron gate hanging heavily on a timber fence, made of many thick logs. The entire fortress would be a formidable sight to anyone who had not seen Barad-dûr. To Elrond and Halvorn, who had both laid eyes on the Dark Tower many times, the fence looked insignificant and weak. It was a constant reminder of how little power they actually held in this land, that even their strongest forces were only barely holding on against the Dark One.

It was also an inspiring sight to those who had the will to see it. Halvorn's eyes beheld the strength and courage of ellyn and men who had the valour to stand with the name of righteousness against the darkness of the black hand set against them. The short-haired ellon greeted the pair of guards with a gentle touch to his heart. Elrond greeted likewise, but was given a deep bow in return.

"Commander, it is an honour," they said in unison.

Halvorn smirked.

Elrond blushed. "At ease," Elrond spoke lightly, still not sure how to respond to this new thing. It was definitely going to be a learning experience.

"Congratulations, sir," the one on the right said, smiling.

"You two should come inside," the other guard said, as merry as a lark in the morning.

Elrond nodded. "Thank you." The two of them did as suggested and entered once the guards had opened the gates wide.

Finally, the pair were safe within the gates of the camp. The area was bustling with many warriors and scouts who were coming in for the night. "Where to?" Halvorn asked innocently.

"I was wondering where you were off to," Elrond said giving the ellon a knowing look. "If you want to come with me, though, I was heading to the bath house." The newly appointed commander began his way towards the aforementioned area.

"Ah, very good. I am in need of a thorough cleaning," Halvorn admitted as he also wound his way around the ellyn and men of the camp.

"Indeed," Elrond casually ribbed.

There were mainly elves in this division, but the occasional man could be found. They usually clustered together in small subcultures within their designated stations and this camp was no different. Halvorn averted his eyes from staring as the two friends passed one such group of filthy men speaking in hushed tones about something.

Elrond gave Halvorn a grim look as soon as they passed the small group, silently giving the other ellon a warning. "They don't like elves very much here either."

Halvorn snorted. "Men never change." He realised what he said and amended it, remembering the kin of Elrond's brother. "Most men don't change. They don't trust us even if we are fighting on the same side."

Elrond nodded, ducking into the bath house. At least this place wasn't full. Only a couple of silent ellyn brooded in their warm tubs. The master of the tent immediately pointed the two companions to a couple of metal tubs, which several servants began to fill with steaming water. Elrond began to undress himself whilst listening to Halvorn.

"I suppose they are afraid of us. They cannot trust what they do not understand… or so it seems." Halvorn went on as he began to strip his armour plates off. He laid them carefully in a pile near the filling bathtub.

"I believe you are right about that," Elrond mused, removing his belt and letting it drop to the floor with a heavy thump. He carefully removed his rank medallion from his uniform pocket and placed it on top of the rest of his belongings "I will never understand men," Elrond confessed. Memories of his brother's choice were surfacing in his mind.

"I suppose it doesn't matter," Halvorn decided. He looked down at his armour lovingly for a moment. The flickering firelight emanating from the many torches within the chamber glittered off the dull armour, seemingly making the pieces glow with a deep warmth. The scratches and dents bent the light marvellously. It reminded him of a dirty mirror, though, not a very pretty picture on the whole.

The sound of sloshing water from Elrond's tub broke the thoughts away. "Are you not going to get in?" Elrond asked before plunking his head under the water. He surfaced only to slide deeply into the water, so his chin made the water splash when he spoke. "Or are you going to stand there and admire yourself?" He quipped, trying to lighten the mood both of them were obviously sinking into.

"I am getting in, _naneth_." Halvorn entered the hot water with a sigh.

Elrond smiled, relaxing into the water's embrace. It felt good to finally be cleansed. For a handful of minutes, he was somewhere else: home. The ellon was warm and clean and safe, his step-fathers were singing down the hall, with rich mournful voices. His twin brother, Elros was drying up in the foggy bathroom. Elrond had not a single responsibility in the world whilst the memory continued.

While he dreamt, the hot liquid melted his tight, sore muscles. The beading water on his forehead tracing little rivers down his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. The slight ripples from his own breathing gave a beautiful rhythm to everything. In that minute, he couldn't hear the rough camp life outside or the quiet conversation of two warriors, also coming in to clean up. He couldn't hear the snapping of a torch or the low humming of an ancient tune, sung by Halvorn.

"I could sit here forever if the water would keep its warmth," Elrond spoke lazily. He opened one eye and set the silver-grey iris on his companion, who was in an apparent state of delight.

"Aye."

"Unfortunately, it won't, however." Elrond pushed off the back wall of the tub, grabbing a brush and bar of soap from a nearby stool. He scrubbed away at the dirt and grime, meanwhile Halvorn also dragged himself into motion, following Elrond's lead.

"I don't suppose that life could forget I existed for an hour or so?" The ellon groaned. The sound turned more into one of pleasure as Halvorn scrubbed the blackened soles of his feet.

Elrond let out a soft laugh. "No, life will not forget about you. Don't you worry."

The ellon gave a soft harrumph. "Well, that is too bad." Halvorn switched to brushing his hair till his dark head was covered in gleaming pearlescent suds.

"Believe me, if I could let the world forget me for an hour…" Elrond let the dream slide away. "I loathe to even think about this new position I am in," he said, tentatively opening up the topic.

"Oh yeah? I would be anxious as well. It's an enormous responsibility." Halvorn winked, before plunging his head below the water.

Elrond was beginning to feel the weight of that apprehension settle again and he did not acknowledge the jest. "I don't know if I am prepared for such a charge to be honest. I have never"—

"Gil-Galad would have never given you the position if he did not think you were well suited to the task," Halvorn soggily interrupted, meeting Elrond's concern filled eyes. "You have done much in your short life. Give yourself more credit. You have much to be proud of."

Elrond's eyes dropped, suddenly finding the grey water far more captivating.

" _Pride will be their downfall." Maedhros pitched sternly. "Just as it was all of theirs."_

" _No, these two will not be like us. We shall instruct them better."_

" _What of the curse? You know it just as well as I do."_

 _Azure eyes fell like stars from heaven, broken. "I don't know," Maglor confessed._

Halvorn watched silently as something profound replayed through Elrond's mind. The ellon sifted desperately through his own thoughts, trying to discover what it was that he had said that had upset his friend.

"I think you are correct about one thing at least," Elrond finally spoke, breaking the tense moment. He sighed. "Gil-Galad would not have chosen me for this rank if he did not think I could handle it," he pronounced, more for his own welfare than for Halvorn's. Frankly, the statement sounded to him very much like a pitiful excuse for an escape.

"Yes." Halvorn agreed, standing up. He stepped out of the tub, sloshing water everywhere. The ellon took the soft grey towel offered to him by a servant and began to dry himself off.

Elrond also hefted himself from the water. It felt good to be clean, but Halvorn had the right idea. It was best to get out before the water cooled any longer. He stepped out of the bath slightly more carefully as Halvorn. He gave the servant a smile as he took his own offered towel. He was also handed a neatly folded, clean uniform. "Thank you," Elrond breathed.

"When are your planned dates for setting out on this manoeuvre?" Halvorn asked, running a hand compulsively over his short hair.

Elrond pulled a pair of trousers on. "I have not yet received official guidelines on the upcoming missions, but I am under the impression they will occur soon."

"I hope they come quickly. Oh, by the way…" Halvorn continued nonchalantly, "I am in your battalion,"

Elrond perked up at that news. "I was wondering why you had come here." Elrond smirked but the mirth pulled his face into a grin. "Welcome."

Halvorn gave a flamboyant bow. "Thank you, my lord! It is a pleasure" –

The ellon's words were cut short, however, by a hoarse scream crying out from outside. "Wargs!"

As if to respond to the warning, a piercing chorus of fell snarls echoed loudly throughout the camp. Both ellyn snapped alert in an instant, their identical movements blurringly fast with years of battlefield experience. The two snatched their swords from the pile of armour they had left before bathing and bolted from the tent, anxious to see what had occurred.

Elrond's gaze swept over the scenes before him. The entire camp was in a state of organised chaos with warriors taking up arms and shouting orders. Night had nearly enveloped all light and the torches had been lit. Elrond caught the arm of one soldier running southwards, which seemed to be the direction the sound of battle emanated from. "What happened?" Elrond hastily asked.

The breathless ellon swallowed hard. "Wargs are scaling the southern wall and attacking."

Elrond let the man go and quickly ran the direction towards the fighting. He had never heard of Wargs scaling anything so steep, but it seemed the entire land had lifted its hand against the Alliance. Anything could happen in this forsaken region. He rounded a corner, aware of Halvorn, who was still half dressed but armed, turning right on his heels.

The scene before him was one of harsh familiarity. Amongst the flickering shadows of a dozen lit torches, there were at least six Wargs and more were clawing over the heavy stone wall that marked the southern border of the camp. The sheer number of fighting elves was on the Alliance's side, and Elrond immediately raised his sword in challenge, rushing into the fray with his compatriots.

He ducked under a whirling fragment of someone's snapped spear. Rising, he slammed his sword forcefully down into the thick skull of a crouching Warg. The beast died with a gurgling howl. He turned his gaze to find another target when he noticed an ellon struggling against the weight of one of the giant animals.

The sword buried deep in its chest was doing nothing against the sheer willpower of the enraged creature, which was quickly pushing the ellon backwards, threatening to knock the soldier down. Elrond was just about to run to the aid of the warrior, when a sudden outbreak of unleashed arrows found their target in the Warg. The creature finally stilled.

More arrows flew above the heads of those fighting on the ground. Each sailing weapon either finding a victim on the wall or flying far behind the dark wall to perhaps kill an awaiting creature.

The sudden foray seemed to be over like that. Elrond didn't even notice that the din was over. All he could hear was the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. The formerly moving soldiers merely stood, as if daring the next Warg to try scaling the wall and jumping over. The Alliance had won this round it seemed, though at a cost.

Feeling the energy of the situation beginning to slightly subside, Elrond ran his gaze around the camp. There were two ellyn lying wounded and one fallen on the floor, his state apparent by the pooling gash across his chest. "We need a healer," Elrond spoke out loudly. His voice broke the ellyn around him from their unsteady state of alertness to one of recovery.

The area filled once again with sound, this time of edgy order giving and hurried movements as the soldiers immediately began the clean-up operation.

"I have never seen Wargs do that. Have you?" Halvorn whispered as he carefully made his way to Elrond's side.

Elrond kept his eyes on his men… Valar, he was calling them his men already? _No, they were not his men yet. He hadn't proved himself yet._ He shook the thoughts away, turning to answer Halvorn. "No, I have not," he answered.

"They are learning," a deep, eloquent voice spoke ominously from behind the two.

Elrond and Halvorn faced the newcomer, a tall, blonde-haired king. His hard, blue eyes were filled with scorn.

Elrond had to hide his surprise. Halvorn had not the care to supress his raised eyebrow. "Thranduil," Elrond greeted simply.


	3. Meetings

"Elrond, I am glad to know that you recognise me at the very least," Thranduil said in reply to the raven-haired Noldo. "Greetings." The young king inclined his head ever so slightly. He couldn't help but smirk at the surprise moving across the two ellyn's torch-lit faces.

Elrond forced a smile. He was not overly fond of Thranduil to be honest, but he knew better to show any disrespect in front of anyone else. "Of course, it would be difficult to forget the King of Greenwood. I was there on your coronation if you remember."

Thranduil's gaze slid from Elrond and took in Halvorn as he spoke. "Indeed, I remember that occasion. You certainly look much different." The Sindarin king met Halvorn's dark eyes, "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Halvorn."

The Nandorin ellon merely nodded. He did not take his eyes off Thranduil's. Elrond cut in as a thin sheen of ice settled between the two ellyn, "I must say it is a surprise to see you here, Thranduil, especially at this time." His voice lost some certainty. "I thought I heard that you were setting out for the northern front with the remnant of your people."

Thranduil's eyes flashed only briefly at the memory that always accompanied the reminder of what was lost. The _remnant_ of his people shouldn't be in this war. He had only stayed fighting for his father. It was all a pointless bloodbath…

"Although, with you being here I can hardly believe that is the case, especially with orders being the way they are," Elrond added as an afterthought. He had noticed the subtle reaction from Thranduil over the passing comment concerning the Sindar. He forgot the Sindar's tendency to treat the slaughter that had happened so long ago as a taboo topic. Indeed, it had been atrocious but so had the rest of the war so far.

Thranduil nodded, nonchalant and once again perfectly in control of his emotions. "Yes, we were ordered to the north." He didn't elaborate any further. "I myself came here to speak with Gil-Galad." Again, the young king only spoke as much as he needed.

"I don't suppose the discussion you had planned with the High King had anything to do with this type of attack?" Halvorn motioned behind him to take in the vestiges of the previous attack, which were now almost completely cleaned up. "These new tactics of the Wargs?" His words were somewhat hopeful and accusing at the same time.

Thranduil didn't give any sign of being annoyed by the tone of voice Halvorn brought to the conversation. "Indeed, that is a subject that I planned on bringing up."

Elrond's eyebrows rose as his curiosity piqued. This was the first time he had seen such an attack in his camp. To know that Thranduil knew something about the anomaly was intriguing. Had this sort of thing been happening in camps closer to the front? It certainly wasn't out of the question. Surveillance and communication was often unreliable in this forsaken land and messengers were in high demand for the sheer number of casualties such an occupation demanded. It seemed every occupation demanded much casualties but as the years had passed even the orcs had learned to target the signal officers and their poorly armed and armoured runners. "This has been seen elsewhere then?" Elrond questioned.

A shadow fell over Thranduil's face. He glanced around at the men and elves attending to their various duties. Many were far too engaged to be listening to the trio of officers, but Thranduil knew soldiers as much as Elrond and Halvorn. They would be eavesdropping on the three.

Elrond and Halvorn noticed the change in Thranduil's posture and immediately filled in the seconds-long gap of silence. "We should take you to an officer's tent… We can discuss this in more comfortable quarters there," Elrond added more quietly.

"Agreed, I have been journeying for some time to get here and I would enjoy a rest. Lead on," Thranduil said regally.

Halvorn hung back for a moment but relented and followed as well. If only for Elrond and curiosity's sake, he would follow and continue to listen. He himself was not keen—

Halvorn looked down at himself, realising he was still stripped down to the waist and barefoot. He cleared his throat, which caused both Elrond and Thranduil to turn.

"What is it?" Elrond asked concern lacing his voice. "Did you get wounded?"

Halvorn shook his head. "I just thought that perhaps we can stop by the bathing chambers and clothe ourselves with something more suitable to a meeting with a king." He met Thranduil's ice blue eyes apologetically.

Incredibly, the young king chuckled. "I had not noticed in the darkness…" He schooled his voice back into something more majestic. "Perhaps you two should do that. I will accompany you then you may show me to Officer's Row."

Elrond, now conscious of his state but far from being as embarrassed as Halvorn, took the lead towards the bathing house. "Of course," he said, musing on that glimpse of warmth he had seen through Thranduil façade.

 **xXx**

It did not take the three ellyn overly long to reach Officer's Row. The night was still young. The alleys were quiet in this side of the camp. Only a few ellyn posted at guard stations here and there or a couple of tired elves chatting wearily about their next moves loitered about. The dark lanes were lit only by a handful of dull torches spaced apart evenly by the yard. The occasional sound of the earth making a deep, angry rumble punctuated the hard, dusty street. Elrond led the way, walking side by side with Thranduil, while Halvorn insisted on staying in the background. There was not much to be said and, for once, neither Halvorn nor Elrond broke the silence. Instead, a curt, male voice interrupted the gentle lull, "My lords."

The trio turned to face the newcomer. He was a lanky young officer with jaded eyes and a stern face. The king's mark was branded onto his leather pauldrons.

"Yes," Thranduil asked.

The officer dipped his head slightly, now directing his voice to Thranduil. A sudden uneasiness was apparent on the ellon's face. "The king wishes to speak with Commander Elrond and you, King Thranduil. He gave orders for me to escort the two of you before him."

Elrond nodded. "Alright, lead the way." He turned to Halvorn. "I will meet you in my tent for conversation afterwards?" He asked hopefully.

Halvorn snorted. "That sounds fine to me, Commander. It would be better than spending the rest of the evening alone in a bivouac. I must write my commanding officer that I arrived while you tend to that. But enough of me. Now go. You are brave, indeed, to keep not one, but two kings waiting." He waved his friend off motioning with his eyes towards Thranduil, who was eager to leave.

Elrond came to himself once again. "Alright," he said. How Halvorn was a distraction for him. Sometimes he felt like a mischievous child again, getting into trouble with his twin brother… He moved to follow Thranduil, who had ordered the officer to lead on.

 **XxX**

Thranduil gracefully ducked into the king's private tent. The large room was furnished well, with many furs settled onto the floor and a large, pelt-draped throne against the back wall. The king, however, was not settled atop his royal seat. Gil-Galad was standing alone at the right-hand wall, where a large map of the Black Land was hung.

This was not the first time Thranduil had been called before the king of the Noldo but he certainly was not accustomed to such meetings. He kept his countenance calm and his posture one of confidence. Thranduil was a king as well, and he could not let his slight nervousness show. He reminded himself of his own heritage and gave a silent prayer for his ancestors' poise. "King Gil-Galad," he greeted with a slight bow. The words slid smoothly off his tongue. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

Gil-Galad turned his attention away from the map and returned Thranduil's bow. "The feeling is mutual, King Thranduil. How do your people fare?"

"The people of Greenwood the Great are doing their duty wholeheartedly," Thranduil said simply.

The Noldorin king dipped his head. "Ah," His eyes jumped to Elrond, who was standing quietly behind the King of the Greenwood. "Good evening, Elrond," he said with a smile.

Elrond gave a sharp bow, bringing his hand swiftly to his heart. "Good evening, my lord."

Gil-Galad watched his officer for a few more moments, not regretting his recent decision to advance Elrond to the title Commander. He then directed himself to business. "I am glad you two have come so quickly." He motioned for the pair to take a seat on the two wooden chairs a servant had brought in while they dealt with the pleasantries.

Thranduil sat, taking the offered glass of wine from another servant, he sipped the fluid before speaking. The other two ellyn in the room also sat. Gil-Galad finally took his seat on his throne and taking up a palpable feeling of power. "Tell me what you wish to discuss," Thranduil said.

"I want to know, first, why the King of Greenwood thought it prudent to come to me. I am curious on what you have to say me. Perhaps it will shed lit on my own questions."

Thranduil's eyebrow lifted only slightly. "Very well. I came to speak with you on the recent orders that have been given to my people. Our stores are too low for such an assault even on the northern front. We must pull back our forces and regroup." He lowered his voice, leaning further back into his chair and setting the glass he held onto the small table between he and Elrond. "Not only that, but there is an evil awakening on the northern flank. We are not certain what type of fell creature or machine this is, for none have returned to tell the tale in full. The only evidence we have yet to discover is the carnage wrought after the battle: burn scars across the earth, nothing living. Survivors nearby report fire and a fierce splitting of rocks. It dwells in the northern crevasse that the men call _Gash._ " 

Both Gil-Galad and Elrond listened intently to Thranduil's account of the mystery. The first thought that came to Elrond's mind was a dragon. He had heard enough tales from his stepfathers about such evil and foul creatures. The half-elf could think of no other explanation than this: the enemy had successfully bred a firedrake. The ellon refrained himself from speaking his mind before the two kings but he kept his thoughts at the forefront of his mind whilst Gil-Galad spoke up, revealing none of his own suppositions, "How long do you expect relief will be dire?" The king asked, choosing not to ask about the menace rising on the northern front.

Thranduil's face showed how grave the situation was before he could even say a word. "It is dire at the present moment. We had sent messengers two weeks past. Whether they were killed or captured, we still know not."

Gil-Galad pondered this for a moment, his face taking on a faraway expression. Thranduil waited a handful of breaths before he interjected into the Noldorin king's deliberations. It was time to stress the most important reason he had come here. "If my people are not reinforced with another garrison, I will be forced to pull out of this war."

Gil-Galad gathered his musings. He had expected this for a long time. He was beyond grateful to the young king that Thranduil had stayed in the war even with his quickly dwindling army. It was not unfitting for him to wish to pull out of it. They had done as much as they could and were still holding strong, but failing hands could only last for such a while. Uncharacteristically, he felt despair almost overwhelm him.

"That is the crux of my journey here," Thranduil said with finality. "We must have aid on the northern front and it must come soon."

"It is a plea I have heard more times then I care to number," Gil-Galad muttered, still under the heavy hand of desolation. His voice nonetheless carried the same authority but the strength was drained from it. Elrond noticed his lord's change easily and was not lost on the gravity of Thranduil's words. The king of the Noldo met Thranduil's icy blue ones. "I cannot send an entire garrison to support your people, Thranduil King. We simply do not have the forces. We are stretched thin."

Thranduil's face was stone. He said not a word.

"Believe me, I have long thought of our warriors on the north and have discussed it with many advisors. We will not be able to send reinforcements now. If your people can hold on…"

Elrond's tongue moved before he could tame it. His words escaped before he could reign them. "What if we rescheduled our push on the southern?" He blurted.

Both ellyn immediately turned their attention to the officer who was suddenly standing in their midst, the one whom they had forgotten was present. Thranduil raised an eyebrow. Gil-Galad looked somewhat shocked.

Elrond felt his face suddenly burn. How could he do that? He had never disclosed anything so blatantly in his entire life. His lowered his eyes to the ground, unable to overcome his sudden embarrassment and shame. "Forgive me, my lords." That was all Elrond was able to croak out. For seemingly endless seconds he stood under the full scrutiny of two kings debating whether he should say more with his dry tongue. He took the advice of his father, Maedhros, and stayed quiet. _Many words ignite a fire_.

Thankfully, Thranduil broke through the burning silence first. "You have a garrison ready for an assault." He stated. He turned his attention from Elrond to Gil-Galad in a look of betrayal.

Gil-Galad smoothly transitioned his own gaze back to Thranduil. His face remained meticulously stoic despite the anger and disappointment that coursed through him. Not all of it was directed to his new commander but a healthy chunk was. He weighed his next words carefully, "My commander does have a point. We could postpone certain assaults on the south to give our troops in the north the breath they so desperately need, but it would require time and planning to gear that garrison for deployment." There. Gil-Galad was satisfied with that response. He had his own reasons why he wished to keep the garrison here, reasons that needn't be spoken.

Thranduil did not show the same satisfaction that the High King did. His eyes narrowed slightly. "The north does not have such time. If you wish to keep your forces to your own secret deeds so be it, but the people of the Greenwood must follow their own needs. I see your forces are stretched thin indeed, so much so in fact that perhaps it should be you fighting on the front in the same manner that I myself am forced. The Greenwood needs reinforcements or we will pull out of this war. I think that is sum enough. Make your decision, Gil-Galad. I must retire in preparation for a long journey back north." The silver-haired king stood gracefully and left the tent.

Elrond stood stock still, afraid to even move, yearning to go back to being the wallflower. It was not meant to be. Gil-Galad pierced him with his smouldering gaze. "Forgive me, my lord," Elrond said, raising his eyes to meet his king's.

Gil-Galad's deep stare softened at seeing the shame in his commander's gaze. He sighed heavily. "All these long years of serving under me and you choose that time to speak unhindered," Gil-Galad bemoaned.

Elrond remained silent, letting his superior continue. The berating seemed less harsh then Elrond had expected but he did not let his guard down just yet. Inside, he was chastening himself with more fire.

"Elrond, tell me why did you say that?" Gil-Galad asked firmly.

"I have no excuse, my lord," Elrond confessed.

"Indeed," Gil-Galad looked down at his own boots. "Now, I have to think of a rearrangement for all of our plans. And I think it fit if you help me out of this mess you have put me in," he said glancing at Elrond out of the corner of his eye. He regarded the raven-haired officer for a moment then chuckled quietly. "Come, Elrond, everyone makes mistakes. You have merely had your first one."

Elrond gave a small smile, relieved that his king was not all that furious. The laugh was still somewhat unnerving though. "Thank you, my lord," he said fairly more comfortably. He was still burning but his anxiety was slowly ebbing.

Gil-Galad studied his friend for a moment, clearly reading the conflicting emotions tumbling within Elrond. Finally, he came to a decision. "You are very welcome, Elrond. Now, I suggest you go to your tent to rest and recover. I expect you here at my tent at dawn to discuss what we might do in response to Thranduil's plight and your wild tongue."

Elrond gave a quick bow of respect then left, grateful to no longer be in the High King's presence.

Gil-Galad watched the ellon leave then dismissed his servants for the night. He had never once seen Elrond lose his composure the way he had done tonight. "Please, Elrond, don't make me regret my decision," he whispered softly.


	4. Talking Matters Through

**I'm sorry I havent updated in an age. Please forgive me and accept this chapter. It is a bit of a short one but its all I could manage at this time.**

 **As always, centered italics are flashbacks.**

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Elrond hurried to his tent. His footstep fell as quickly as his mind was churning. _I can't believe myself. Why did you have to do that?_ Why? The elven commander couldn't place his finger on the reason. He had never had such a slip, not even in his youngest days under Gil-Galad. He sighed heavily as he passed down the alley in which his tent was situated. It would eat away at him, not knowing what had been the cause for his blatant mistake. How?! He chastised himself for the umpteenth time. Had he really been that nervous? Or had the plight of the Sindar actually roiled him that much? "I don't know," he moaned quietly to himself as he ducked through the tent flap and entered his small quarters.

Halvorn was lounging comfortably, on the floor, bathed in rich, warm candlelight. A contraband piece of literature was laid out before him. A small, waving candle (just one of several scattered through the room) also sat on the floor beside the parchments, lighting the dark-haired ellon warmly. His chocolate irises did not turn form his pages as the commander entered, nor did his head move as he addressed the distraught elf. "You are back earlier than I had expected," Halvorn said dryly.

Elrond startled.

The sound caused the Nandorin ellon to look up from his book. He grinned but the smile fell when the elf noticed the look on Elrond's face. "You okay?" He asked suddenly concerned.

Elrond had quite forgotten about the ellon and now he pulled his face from surprise into something a bit more cheerful. Maybe this night could become a little better. "Oh, it's you," he breathed. The half-elf tried to fight his sagging shoulders and pasted another artificial smile on his face. He looked around the room and made his way to small desk he had set up in the back of the tent. "I am fine," he answered bluntly. He reallly didn't want to talk about his prior fiasco… Maybe he could act like he was busy. Why make things worse by ruining his friend's night off?

Halvorn narrowed his eyes as the raven-harried commander began to rummage in his desk. "How did it go?" Halvorn asked casually, though he was still quite sure that something had dampened the other ellon's spirits. Indeed, Elrond's false happiness was easy to read through. "I hope it is still alright for me to stay here," he said, fishing for the answer to the elf's mood.

"No, you are welcome here." Elrond gave a half-hearted chuckle but did not take his eyes off his searching.

Halvorn shifted position so he was laying on his side now. He propped himself up on an elbow. The elf had clearly noticed the dodged question. "That is good to know… but tell me how the meeting went. Did Thranduil behave?" Halvorn was almost afraid to ask about that untameable young king.

Elrond finally decided that he couldn't deter the pesky ellon. It had been worth a throw, but Halvorn's tone conveyed his doubt. "Thranduil behaved," he said wearily, abandoning his desk and sitting backward on the wood chair instead.

At least Elrond was finally showing signs of opening up. "So, what is troubling you?" Halvorn asked boldly but gently.

The commanding officer's shoulders slumped. "I made a mistake and gave away the king's military secret," he blurted. Valar, he was doing a good job at doing that today.

Halvorn didn't say anything for a moment. What could have possessed Elrond to have done something like that? Never once in all the long years Halvorn had known him had Elrond ever spoken… rashly. "What kind of secret?" He asked carefully, not wishing to put his friend into another hard situation.

"It isn't really a secret to you and me," Elrond explained, feeling somewhat better to be speaking, but a strange feeling was coming over him like he could easily say too much again. "It had to do with the troop movements towards the south and our recent orders. I suggested Gil-Galad shift focus from the south to the north for a short while to give Thranduil's people a respite." Elrond stopped himself at that. He could feel himself getting riled up and he didn't think Halvorn needed to hear about the peril of the north…

"It doesn't sound that horrible," Halvorn amended his words quickly, realising how badly it was affecting Elrond. "Did he give you explicit instructions not to share that information? Thranduil would have found out sooner than later about it. Word travels fast in an army… especially this one," Halvorn reasoned.

Elrond shook his head. "You do not understand. I spoke unheeded, in a meeting between two kings," he said, while turning his gaze to his hands. He couldn't meet his friend's eyes. "Maybe the nerves finally got to me," Elrond thought, trying to find some reason to his own behaviour. He didn't like that excuse, however. There was one real cause to his upset and Elrond was beginning to get a strong feeling he knew what it was, though he wished he knew not. "Thranduil…" _No._ He didn't want to continue down that line of thought. Elrond popped one of his knuckles.

Halvorn pressed forward, just as Elrond had known he would. "'Thranduil' what?" The Nandorin elf watched the ellon's face for any cues or silent body language. He was drawing close to the reason and Elrond clearly knew what was the issue. He kept his voice persistent and sat up. "What happened with Thranduil?"

Elrond finally looked up to meet the dark eyes of his comrade. They softened. It did nothing to quell the fire that was now rising in Elrond's soul. "Thranduil's people are on the verge of destruction. According to him, they won't last the month," he said evenly.

Halvorn had not expected news like that. He immediately regretted his previous words about the ellon. He licked his lips unsure of what to say.

The Noldo continued, "the king will not aid them, and even worse, a new terror is said to be rising there." Elrond mentally recounted Thranduil's words about that fire-breathing horror. "My initial thoughts based on his description was that the dark lord had bred a dragon and let it loose on the northern front. I don't know what else it could be, but dragons have not been seen or heard of since… the early days."

The vivid stories that his stepfathers came back to Elrond.

 _Maglor told the story as he usually did. Maedhros sat not far away, listening and waiting for any moments in which to add to the tale._

" _It reared up like a serpent," Maglor's piercing silver eyes flickered between the gazes of the twins. "It's iron teeth and steel eyes shone like molten metal in the smoky battlefield. With every move, it smashed elf and man like clodded earth. It was drawing near, burning everything alive under its black, smouldering talons. Elves as tall as Maedhros were shorn down like the grass under a scythe."_

 _The elder of Fëanor shifted in his seat. He hated it when fear came into their young eyes, but Maglor never seemed to notice. Or maybe he did and he didn't care. "Get to my part," he said gruffly._ The twins have had enough _. He did not speak those words, only through his eyes did he give the message._

" _It came upon Maedhros. I watched from afar, shooting vain arrows. But Maedhros feared not the fire nor did he feel the heat. He drew that ancient sword forged by father." Maglor's eyes beheld the described weapon, which was now mounted unsheathed above the mantle. The twins followed the elf's gaze, looking upon the shining blade. Nothing had dulled the lustre even after all these long years. "In the heat of battle, it shone red and sparkling with the gem-dust that had been instilled within it… far away in the Blessed Realm. The blade bit deep as Maedhros swung his arm in a mighty blow. It sliced that burning tongue even as the creature surged forward, meaning to devour my brother. He thrust then and smote his sword across its throat. The great dragon writhed in the pain, beginning to shake and tremor in such a mighty spasm that the earth was rent deep. But even in death, such a monster causes much destruction. Elf and man died in waves as the hulking form crushed all under its girth. A spewing, potent venom shot from the wound. Maedhros fell, not dead but blind and burned." Maglor glanced at his brother in painful reminiscence. "But the beast was dead."_

 _The end of the story was followed by minutes of tense silence before Elrond thanked them for the tale and had pulled his brother to bed. It was obvious the brothers had once again fallen into the shadow of days gone by._

"A dragon," Halvorn whispered softly into the silence. He swallowed over his fear and the lump settling in his throat. "If he has unleashed such a beast, how…" His voice trailed off. He didn't want to say what his mind was conjuring at the moment.

Elrond nodded gravely. "That is what I am thinking. As of yet, such a tale has only been heard of on the northern front, but how long until this power reaches further? Even if it is not a serpent, I fear the Sindar truly will not be able to hold it longer." Elrond sighed, reminded once again of his previous mistake. His silver eyes looked down to the floor, but his voice came stronger as he spoke his heart, what he had realised during this talk with Halvorn. "Which is why I question the decision to withhold forces from the north," Elrond stated.

Halvorn proceeded carefully. "Aye, I agree, mellon." His next words were cut off by Elrond, who was growing bolder with each passing breath.

"They have been fighting for a long time without anyone's aid and now in their most dire need, do we forsake them?" Elrond shook his head. Halvorn merely continued to listen. "I understand that forces are spread thin, but have they not been this way the entire length of the war? We have always been careful in choosing our battles from the beginning so why can we not aid the army which has stood by our side from the beginning?"

Elrond met Halvorn's eyes. The half-elf's steel irises were burning with memories now. Halvorn let him continue, perceiving that the ellon needed to vent, which the elf continued to do, animating his words with his hands. "Thranduil's people are dying. They have been _dying_ since day one. Yes, it was their fault for charging recklessly, but still… I don't think I can stand by and watch the remains of an entire people group be diminished. Gil-Galad should have jumped to aid our ally and he did not." Elrond stopped speaking. His tense shoulders slowly relaxed.

Halvorn waited through the elf's descent, watching Elrond's body language and waiting for the right moment to move the conversation along.

"I don't know anymore," Elrond finally confessed as he ran his hands through his hair and stood. His gaze took in the small map over his bed. The black land seemed so vast suddenly and Barad-Dûr looked so insignificant on a piece of parchment. Not for the first time, he pondered why such a massive effort was needed to blot out that. One. Small. Speck. The moody eyes of his best friend bored into Elrond's back and finally the half-elf turned to look on the short ellon still sitting cross legged on the floor. Elrond joined him, sitting in the same position heavily. "What is this war?"

Halvorn swallowed. "I don't know… but I do know we got to fight it. And we will." He searched out the other ellon's silver gaze. "Sometimes orders are given to us without a full reason. You know that. We never have the full picture and when you start leading, you will have to make decisions like this too. The king is merely being patient." Halvorn's eyes hardened. "He will not let the north fall."

A second of silence passed before Elrond nodded then sighed. "You're right, of course. Maybe I am just overwhelmed. Maybe I should just go to bed… I have a meeting again tomorrow morning," he said glumly.

"Relax, it will be alright," Halvorn offered.

"That is easier said than done," Elrond countered.

The Nandorin elf chuckled. "Well, that is true too."


	5. Another Disaster

A sudden small glint of light suddenly passed over his closed lids. Elrond moaned deep and low in his throat as his dreams slipped into oblivion. He knew exactly who was trying to wake him. The half elf rolled over to get away from the light. He had not the presence of mind to say anything yet.

"You have a meeting today, mellon. Time to wake," Halvorn said chipper as usual.

Elrond finally opened his eyes, turning his silver gaze to meet Halvorn's, who was leaning far too close for comfort. The blasted Nandorin elf shined a small mirror in his face once again. "Daro," Elrond growled as he carefully sat up in bed.

Smiling that his job was done, Halvorn backed up and took a seat at the desk. He placed his mirror and candle down as Elrond scanned the area. It couldn't have been much earlier than dawn but the time was difficult to surmise for even the mornings in this forsaken land were dim. At least his friend had cleaned up his own mess, Elrond thought to himself with relief. "How much sleep _do_ you get?" Elrond asked in irritated curiosity.

Halvorn shrugged gaily. "I honestly don't keep track, but far less then you it seems. It must be your mortal strain," he said with a smirk. The smirk grew slightly more sombre. "How did you sleep?"

Elrond couldn't remember his dreams in this groggy state, but his night had been fitful. "It was fine," he replied as he swung his legs over the edge of the small bed and he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. For a moment, he envied Halvorn's new look with those short locks. They were probably far easier to manage than his own current mane. "I am not looking forward to this," he mumbled exasperatedly. The half-elf pulled open the top drawer of his sole nightstand. He combed his tangled locks as Halvorn gave him advice.

"Just remember, you don't have the whole picture," Halvorn said.

Elrond let out a half-hearted chuckle. "I don't think I will make the same mistake twice. Now, I must merely fix the issue." He thought about the options as he pulled some clothes on. The more formal dress would probably be more appropriate. "I think it is imperative we do not let the Sindarin king leave the camp prematurely. I think that is the first issue. I fear, even now, that the stubborn elf is gearing to leave."

Halvorn nodded, "I am under your command. Do wish me to find him, my lord?" Halvorn's voice adopted its characteristic reserved pitch that it took when the ellon was speaking on duty.

"I would think that would be best," Elrond spoke. "While, you are doing that, I will be speaking to our High King about which direction he wishes to go. Time to fix this," he said with determinedly finality.

Halvorn gave a curt nod. "I will go find King Thranduil, then." The elf quickly moved out of the room, leaving Elrond alone with his thoughts.

 **XxX**

"My lord!"

Thranduil didn't even try to hide his annoyance at his servant's voice. He let out a deep sigh and turned from his packing to face the red-haired ellon. "What is it?" He demanded icily.

The shadow of fear crossed the servant's face and he swallowed before speaking his news. "Halvornos of the North is here to speak to you at the behest of Elrond Peredhil," the man spoke cautiously.

"Please, do not call me by that name," A rich voice spoke behind the servant. "I am simply Halvorn." Surprised, the servant whirled around to look at the now-present ellon. The ellon's gaze poisoned as soon as the servant realised how bluntly the officer had disobeyed his command to wait.

The ugly glance did not deter Halvorn, however, and he suavely strode into the large area that had been prepared for the king of the Sindar. The giant space was probably more than the camp could afford to spare on only one person, but this person was Thranduil King and even if Halvorn did not like him very much, he could not deny that the regal lord had accrued certain rights. Halvorn stopped his feet before they touched the layer of beast furs that had been placed on the floor and bowed low. "My lord," he greeted.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the approaching ellon. He was surprised when the elf actually saluted him, bowing deeply and thumping his right fist to his chest. The king raised a perfect eyebrow. He did not bother with returning the ellon's greeting. "What are you here for?" Thranduil knew the answer but whether or not this elf would speak it out plainly would be the test.

Halvorn hesitated for only a moment while he found the words he wished to speak. It had never been his strong point, dealing with subtleties through word. "My lord, Commander Elrond wishes for you to stay but a little longer and to meet with him. He has word to give to you, and, indeed, would have come himself were it not for the High King's summons. He believes there is a way to bring aid to your people," Halvorn ended on that note, speaking as much as he dared. He did not wish to speak his lord's mind without first knowing all of it.

Thranduil was silent for a long moment, thinking. "When does he wish to speak. I have a long journey to make," Thranduil said. The elf's barely perceptible swallow told him everything he needed to know. This elf had not thoroughly planned his venture and was probably in league with the commander in whatever scheme the half-elf was thinking up. The king waited patiently for an answer, now watching with the eyes of a lion trifling with its prey.

Halvorn spoke up, feeling the definite change in atmosphere. This elf was playing him and there was nothing he could do about it. Mentally, Halvorn cursed himself. He should have paid more attention to his forefathers' word play in court. "Commander Elrond wished to see you immediately after his meeting with the Lord Gil-Galad." _There. That sounded reasonably well,_ Halvorn thought.

Thranduil thought about it. He really did. Then he turned his back to the officer and resumed packing the few official things he had been preoccupied with earlier. "He is speaking with the king in his private chambers, I presume?"

A strong feeling of alarm ripped through Halvorn's mind and adrenaline zipped down the ellon's spine. The elf struggled to keep it all under his mask. At least that was one thing he could excel at. "Yes," was his simple reply.

Thranduil smirked, still keeping his hands busy. If Gil-Galad was speaking with Elrond than it was plausible the half-elf was trying to fix the issue or change his lord's mind. A rogue flash of accusation crossed his mind. What business did this half-elf have with the Sindar's woes? It could have been the obvious; the ellon wanted to help and was actually struck by Thranduil's report. He made up his mind. Whatever the reason, his people needed every chance. He straightened and met the eyes of his servant, who was silently standing by and listening. "Finish gathering all of my things. I will be back." The silver-haired king then met Halvorn's eyes. "Lead me there, now."

Halvorn had no other choice than to obey the king. He gave another salute then, with anxiety spiking in his stomach, turned on his heel leading the way to the High King.

 **XxX**

"Elrond, it is not merely a matter of whether the garrison can be deployed or not," Gil-galad said emphatically. He was growing weary of his Commander's ideas. The High King of the Noldor was sitting upon his luxurious throne, much the same as he had been sitting last night. A breeze toyed with his hair from the open tent. It was a relatively nice day even for the Black Lands. A servant was standing unobtrusively close by, ready to retrieve anything the instant the king wished for it. Everything in the room spoke of order and sheer perfection…

Except Elrond. It was obvious this decision had been wearing the ellon thin. The normally robust ellon looked small today and tired. He paced in front of the king's throne going through the lists of ideas in his head one by one. It wasn't all in vain. The ellon had already given the king some worthy options, but things were steadily going downhill as Elrond exhausted his designs. "My lord, the garrison _is_ ready. I am ready to lead it there immediately."

Gil-Galad sighed through his nose. "I know the garrison is ready, but think about how large a hole we will have in our defences if they leave? You must learn to take these things into account." _If you are ever to be my successor.._. He added silent and doleful.

"We will have an entire front undefended if the northern defences fall, will we not?" Elrond asked, trying to hide his hesitance. To him the entire conversation felt as if it were unhinging with every word.

"Yes, we will. That is if Thranduil's forces fail so quickly." Gil-Galad perceived the moment Elrond understood his words fully. Perhaps the elf was still as sharp as in the days of his youth.

"You don't believe the situation is as dire as Thranduil deems," Elrond stated. He had never… That thought had never come into his mind once before. "Why would he exaggerate? We both know his forces were small to begin with," Elrond pondered.

"In war, every enemy is counted twice, Elrond. I'm sure your fathers taught you that." The tall elf king stood and made his way to the map laying at a table. He let that titbit settle with the half-elf for a moment until he heard the other's boots follow him. "I have a mind to move your garrison forward north," Gil-Galad said as Elrond leaned over beside him to peer at the parchment.

Elrond kept the hope out of his voice, but it was impossible to keep it from glimmering in eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

The elder was opening his mouth to answer when he was interrupted by an officer in bright green armour. "High King!"

Both ellyn at the table faced the newcomer. "Speak and may you have good reason to disturb me," Gil-Galad spoke firmly.

The officer instantly hesitated, obviously checked thoroughly by the words of his lord and king. Fortunately, the elf was able to overcome the lump in his throat and force his tongue to move. "High King, I have seen King Thranduil. He is on his way here now. An officer accompanies him. They will arrive soon, my lord," he said.

Gil-Galad shot Elrond a sharp glance but held his tongue. "Go," he ordered the soldier, who swiftly left.

"My lord…" Elrond began.

"Let me guess, the officer accompanying Thranduil is Halvorn?" The look in Elrond's eyes was enough to give truth to the guess.

"I did not tell him to bring Thranduil here, merely I asked him to bid the king to stay a little longer, lest you come to a decision and he is gone. I told him to bide his time and wait patiently," Elrond explained.

Gil-Galad snorted. "The Sindar king hath little patience it seems," he muttered. The king strode to his place and took his seat on his throne again. "Well, let us wait and see what this elf has to say."

Elrond looked at the tops of his boots and took his place standing at the right hand of his lord. For some reason, he felt more unworthy then he had even felt last night. However, the king must have sensed his mood, because only a handful of breaths had passed when the thick shoulders of Gil-Galad relaxed and he met Elrond's silver gaze. "I know it is not your fault, Elrond. It may be your friend's though," he warned.

Elrond nodded, his eyes sliding to the tent entrance. They remained there in both trepidation and expectance. In his heart, he knew that could very well be the case. He prayed a silent prayer otherwise. _Halvorn, please do not be the cause of this interruption._


	6. Decisions

**A/N: I am sorry about the long update times.**

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The silver-haired king strode silently behind Halvorn. He walked determinedly, like a beast striding to battle. Halvorn was unable to behold the sight, however. Indeed, the anxious ellon resisted the urge to look back at the tall Sindarin elf. Even now, the Nandorin warrior could feel the daggers that bored icily into his back. It seemed the King of the Woodland Realm excelled at that – _No,_ Halvorn's erratic thinking halted in a sudden moment of irrational paranoia. As if this ellon could read his mind… Thankfully, Halvorn was interrupted by a young officer who stopped them in their tracks.

"My lord," he spoke, addressing Thranduil. Halvorn hadn't the slightest clue as to what the officer planned to say and he would never find out, for Thranduil interjected scarcely before the servant's words left his lips.

"I am going to see your king," The smouldering ellon said firmly. "Unless, you have word from him that directly forbids me, I will see him," Thranduil added, locking that officer with a thunderously resolute stare.

The officer took a physical step back. His next words were shaky. "Aye, my lord. My apologies." The ellon stepped out of the way as the words left his mouth. The pallor of his face, betrayed the fear in his heart.

Halvorn took the moment as his cue to continue escorting the Sindarin king. He did not even make eye contact with the officer as they passed. He kept his eyes forward and his feet straight. They were already close to the King's Square.

The two elves rounded only one more corner and then they were on the narrow dusty road which ended with the large gathering tent: where Gil-Galad held his court in this forsaken land. Halvorn was certain that their presence was not unnoticed. Indeed, he half expected more guards to join the two's impromptu company. However, none joined Halvorn and Thranduil. The silence as the two ellyn strode was deafening. Only the crunch of their determined steps punctuated the air. Even the distant artillery was quiet for once. As they approached Halvorn couldn't help but notice that the tent looked abandoned from far. Of course, Halvorn knew better to think that. Gil-Galad had probably dismissed everyone, lest anything went down between the two kings.

Halvorn blew his breath out as he stopped at the billowing entrance flaps. Then he moved to the side and, with a flourish, gave Thranduil entrance into the grand space.

Gil-Galad was already waiting for them, with Elrond standing at his right hand. The room looked the same as it had last night, save that Elrond and the Noldorin king were the sole occupants this time. Not even a servant or scribe was present. Halvorn swallowed loudly despite himself and meant to take the absence of all others as a sign that he should leave as well, however, Gil-Galad spoke before he could make his escape.

"What brings you here, and with my captain," Gil-Galad asked, fully knowing the truth but wishing to hear it straight from the Sindarin elf's own mouth.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes, seeing the trap but also stepping head long into it. By now he really had nothing to hide. His people were dying, and he could not stand by at the mercy of another without speaking out. "I have come to renew my cause before you. I meant to leave this morning, but it was your captain who bade me tarry but a little longer to speak with you." His blue eyes narrowed. "Have you considered my people's plight?" He asked. His voice carried a thick layer of accusation.

Gil-Galad broke Thranduil's stare, sliding his gaze over Halvorn instead. "I simply do not have the time –"

His words were cut off. "My people _have_ no time," Thranduil spat, cutting quickly to the heart of the matter. He knew he had no power here. He was making his last gambit and it was difficult to keep the glaze of ice through his words, especially with the heat of fury rising in him. The Sindarin ellon resisted the urge to ball his fists. He wanted to say more, though what he had said was far more than enough. It was a challenge to Gil-Galad morals, to his competency to lead. It was far more than a handful of words.

The Noldorin king's gaze immediately darted back to pierce Thranduil's darkening stare. "You did not let me finish," he said with such weight that even Thranduil tightened his jaw. Halvorn felt his heart begin to race. Elrond was aware of his forehead breaking out with sweat. For that one long moment, the tension in the silent arena ratcheted incredibly. It was almost palpable: an unseen wrestling of will between to immensely powerful ellyn. Elrond could not tear his eyes away from the two. Even now, it seemed that both shone with an ancient fury that Elrond had only seen a few times in his foster-fathers' eyes.

Gil-Galad finally interrupted the running seconds. His husky voice still held all the checked wrath as before but now it sounded in subtle, dangerous tones. "I had made up my mind before you showed yourself here unheeded," he said, steadfastly keeping his gaze locked with Thranduil. He chose his next words carefully, however, for he did not wish to, in any way, reward the ellon for his rash behaviour (even if it was justified). "I have ordered my commander to leave the southern defences and aid your people in drawing back from the north."

The tall Sindarin king kept his face stoic. "When will this force be deployed?" He asked coolly. The ellon was treading carefully now, probing for the catch. Testing the " _why's"_ to this sudden decision and weighing the worth of the statement. He wondered how long ago the lord had made this decision, and how long the elf would make Thranduil wait before raping the fruits. Part of him estimated Gil-Galad's timing to be within a month, but the other part of him chastised the assumption, and there was also a glimmer of hope he could scarcely hide.

"Commander Elrond has been ordered to marshal the troops immediately. I place him under your command hence forth," Gil-galad stood from his throne. "I have a map and the makings of a plan to head northward with the force, but that is only the beginning. I cannot expend anything else on the northern front… or your people." The Noldorin king instantly noticed the defensive side of Thranduil prickle up at that remark and amended, "This is war after all. Though we all be fighting against one evil, the battle has many faces," he finished and made his way to the small planning table that held the map of Mordor.

Thranduil followed the raven-hired king. "What did you have in mind?" He asked carefully, still wary but eager. His keen eyes darter over the large map draped over the wood table.

"I will show you," Gil-Galad said before turning to the two dumbfounded officers in his presence. He was glad the conversation had stayed relatively civil… and that no unwelcome comments had been supplied. "Elrond, assemble all troops set to have gone to the southern front. Have them marshal at the Eastern Gate as soon as possible. The will set out the moment Thranduil deems. You are under his command until he releases you." With the last sentence, Gil-Galad met the hard eyes of Thranduil and unspoken words were exchanged.

Elrond did not notice the silent conversation. He bowed deeply and set his fist to his breast. "It will be done, my lord." With that, he swept urgently out of the chamber with Halvorn following closely.

The two friends walked quietly for about fifty yards before Halvorn let out the sigh he had been holding in. "That was intense," he said, trying to be as nonchalant about the whole affair and failing miserably.

Elrond nodded. He was still so relieved that he had not said anything stupid this time. "Now I know why you hate politics," Elrond stated dryly. He decided to turn his attention to his task that had been given. That would keep him focused.

"You have your first mission, at least. That is big," Halvorn said giving the other ellon a jab on the shoulder. His anxiety was wearing off now that he had been given the chance to actually speak up. His mind changed gears as he began to muse on the king's order given to Elrond. "I am at your command; how do you wish to mobilise the troops?"

"I will send out messengers to the captains under me," Elrond eyed Halvorn knowingly, expecting a quip. "Excluding you, of course… and we shall call all soldiers to be ready to move out by sundown. That is certainly enough time…" He finished uncertainly. The half-elf tried to recall the many times he had participated in aiding Gil-galad with such movements.

Halvorn put a hand to his chin in thought. "It will be tight," he said dubiously. "But I think we can make it. I am sure Thranduil will want to leave as soon as possible," he added.

Elrond agreed, "That is also my thinking."

"Good!" The Nandorin elf loudly clapped his hands together. "I will assemble my men immediately and meet you at the Southern Gate." The ellon then proceeded to start off into a jog. He half turned as he left. "Good luck, _mellon,_ " he called back with a wink.

Elrond smiled. "Alright, I will see you there, officer!" Once the other was out of sight, Elrond let out his own sigh of relief. The confrontation had been terrifying in its own way, but nothing was coming close to the steadily mounting pressure he was beginning to feel. Indeed, this was going to be a steep learning curve for him. He set his face with grim determination. He needed to get a lot done in a little amount of time… _This is going to be interesting,_ he thought wryly as he moved to follow his own path and find a messenger.


	7. On the Road

**A/N: This is a little chapter but I hope it sates my readers and gets my wheels turning again. Life is slowing down again so I can actually write more often. A great thank you to Adeleihdis for giving me some great inspiration. Some bits of the first paragraph were written by her.**

Elrond stood back for a moment and gazed over the sea of silver and gold armour before him. The elves now under his command were assembled at the gate in an impressive display of power. They were not a great number, far less than that which had marched on the Black Lands those long years ago.

Elves stood arrayed in orderly rows numbering into the hundreds. Grimy armour had been cleaned as best as the short notice had arrived. They were marching for a king after all…

Every last one of the trainer soldiers had fought arduously these past years. It had always been an uncertain battle, yet they had endured. The scars of those brutal struggles were etched into each individual face. The emotional toll of the siege and these accursed lands was hidden deep within their bright eyes. And yet, they stood now with pride and stern determination on their faces, for their king, their countries, and their lives. The sheer power of the warrior's many lit fëa was almost untouchable. Even the smell coming off the men, one of rich leather, ashen dust, and freshly worked iron, was like a wave buffering the soldiers. Though Elrond was certain the sight and smell would deter no orc, it seemed the combined demonstration was keeping the wild creatures at bay.

And for that, the peredhel was glad. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he surveyed the land about him. They would have at least a whole night to march. In the darkness, the army would be hidden from enemy sight, but the feral creatures could prove to be dangerous. Elrond did not forget the Warg attack that had occurred yesterday. He squinted into the grey dimness of twilight. No movement was noted, and his scouts had reported the land clear.

"Are your men ready, commander?" A husky voice spoke from behind Elrond.

The dark Noldo turned to face the newcomer. He wasn't surprised that the voice belonged to the High King, Gil-Galad. Elrond gave a gentle nod and replied, "Yes, my lord. We are ready to depart at your word."

Gil-Galad's face remained impassive. His icy blue eyes flickered towards the Sindarin king standing a couple meters away before responding. "I wish you the best luck, my friend," he said quietly. A small smile lit his eyes ever so slightly.

Elron gave another nod to conceal his suppressed grin. His nerves were rising as the hour drew near. Soon, he would be on his own with more than a hundred lives depending on him for guidance. It was a heavy burden to bear. "Thank you," he said. His own grey eyes roamed over his men.

The warriors reminded Elrond of the war hounds in the Far North which Halvorn had told him about. The energy they carried was loaded and ready. Not all of it was eagerness. Some of the soldiers were quaking, visibly shuffling in their armour to distract their minds from the coming trek. Elrond could imagine (and indeed he shared) a few of the thoughts that ran through their minds. _What threats will this night mount? What devils lie at the end of this road? Will we be too late to save the Sindar? When will this end?_

The king interrupted Elrond's silent musings. "They will fight well. All will be well in the end. Surely, you have foreseen it," Gil-Galad said encouragingly, but a distinct layer of tiredness laced the words.

It was true. Interspersed between his many nightmares, Elrond had seen some shards of what he assumed was foresight. His fathers had always told him he had long vision. Yet, the half-elf was loath to trust the faint glimmers he had seen so infrequently. "They will have to. I do not know for certain what we will find in _Gash_." Elrond shifted his weight uneasily and met his king's gaze, looking for some assurance or direction.

Gil-Galad took in a deep breath and crossed his arms. His voice rasped lowly, "I do not believe you find a full-fledged dragon, but perhaps a drake. Just be ready, Elrond. You must leave soon and whatever you find on your path, lead on." He placed a gentle hand on the commander's shoulder. "I would not have placed you in this position had I not trusted you. Now, you must learn to trust yourself."

 **XxX**

 **Fourteen hours later**

The king's steadfast, azure gaze was so full of purpose and hope in that moment… As Elrond thought back to that sunset he pondered the things he should have said. Now, he had not the chance, and part of him wondered if he would ever get another opportunity to say the words he now thought of...

His horse stumbled and jolted Elrond out of the thoughts he had been slipping into. The ellon looked around in sudden alert. The grey landscape was still dim and dark even at midmorning. As the garrison moved ever northward, it also seemed that there was a significant increase in the amount of ash falling. It was a constant flutter that obscured the ellon's vision and clung annoyingly to his hair. The stony landscape was difficult enough for their scouts to cover without the blanket drifting downwards. Occasionally, the men would march past a dark pit filled with the stuff. Elrond wrinkled his nose as a dark thought came upon him, wondering if the pits were not natural and perhaps burning ditches for the dead.

He shook the thoughts away from him and glanced at Thranduil. The tall, regal elf lord looked grossly out of place in the arid wastes. His exotic silver hair was dulled with the small, clinging specks of ash. Yet, he rode straight and proud, a symbol for his troops to rally behind. Elrond found himself unconsciously mirroring the other ellon. It was difficult not to mimic the Sindarin king. Words from his foster father surfaced from memory.

 _Never be afraid to emulate another elf. Always learn, but never give up your own ways in the process. Be your own master and surpass in the end._

Elrond snorted at the shard of memory. Maedhros had been speaking to Elrond and his twin about sports, but the small subject held so much more value. The ellon saw that now since he was older.

Elrond found himself pondering his deceased brother. The usual slew of thoughts pecked at him while his horse trudged on and the heavy sound of hundreds of boots marched on the hard-packed dirt. The final moments he had spent with Elros were almost too painful to dredge up. It seemed in the desolate landscape, they held more potent feelings of loss and sadness. He shook his feelings away. _Focus_ , he chastised himself.

It was difficult to focus on such long journeys, especially moving so slowly in procession over the narrow passes, but time would fare quicker if he actually had something to do…

His horse reared its chestnut head back suddenly with a fear-filled whinny. Elrond crushed his legs deep into the animal's side in an effort to stay atop his mount. His silver eyes darted back and forth over the silent landscape. Others beside him had halted, warily surveying the area around them with the same look of fear in Elrond's eyes. Anything could be lurking out there. His gaze dashed to Thranduil's "What do you think?" He asked, keeping a sharp vigil of his surroundings.

The king sat still on his horse for a moment, contemplating, weighing his decision. "We must press on until we meet this threat." He raised his voice from the low whisper he had adopted. "Perhaps we will merely pass it by," he said obviously more to the men then Elrond.

It was at that moment that the elf's words were upturned.

A raucous snarl sliced through the thick air. A chorus of growls and bone-chilling howls followed it. Then the screams started. "Wargs!"

Elrond pulled his horse about, facing the pandemonium behind him as the ranks of elves mobilised into a wall of spears and shields. A pack of a dozen of the creatures were now being hacked down by the wall of ellyn.

The animals were larger than Elrond was accustomed, almost as large as the ones that had attacked the camp the day before yesterday. He scanned the horizon for more of the dangerous pack, but the sounds of battle were now dying. He was glad to see that no one had become injured in the small foray. A small flame of pride at the quick movements of his soldiers flickered in the Noldo.

"How odd they attack us," Thranduil commented as his commanders now bellowed for a return to formation among the adrenaline-pumped soldiers. The flummoxed warriors hesitantly moved back into their ranks, resisting the adrenaline pumping through their veins. Thranduil flicked his gaze indifferently back towards the road. His presence glazing over with ice and he moved on as if nothing had occurred. "Come, let us keep marching."

Elrond nodded and kicked his horse into a trot. He only looked back to call for a change of pace. His mind, however, wondered on the oddities of these past few days…


End file.
